The Ways That Matter
by mamaXunicorn
Summary: Emma reflects on Mother's Day.


_**A/N: This is just a cute little something for Mother's Day, obviously not taking into the complete canon of the show, because what's happening is purely insane and we need fluff and not angst on Mother's Day! So enjoy!**_

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Sundays were always boring to Emma. When she was younger she had a few foster families that dragged her to church every Sunday and once she was out of the foster system it was her day to sleep and do absolutely nothing.

But her life had changed dramatically just over six months ago and now she had a new life and a new job, one that called for her to work every day because, as sheriff, somebody had to protect the town and since she didn't have a deputy like she was once to Graham, the duty fell to her.

Despite the several months she'd be in position as sheriff she still had a hard time adjusting to its strict hours and wished, just for this once, that she could pass it off to somebody else. She took the job out of respect for Graham and kept it because someone needed to keep on eye on the town and she needed to keep an eye on Henry. So she made the sacrifice of her sundays (and saturdays for that matter) to watch over the small little town.

This sunday, despite the date, was no different than all the others, at least in Emma's mind. The calendar posted on the wall reminded her that it was Mother's Day, the one holiday Emma could never appreciate due to her lack of mother. She'd had foster mothers of course but none that she ever saw as her mother and really, they never saw her as their daughter either. They never expected anything from her and she didn't want to give it.

After a while, she just seemed to forget that mothers day even existed. The one time she actually remembered thinking about it was the year Henry was born. On Mother's Day that year she wondered if her little chubby cheeked son had a mother that loved him and even, if just for a brief moment, wondered what it'd be like if she kept him. But she wasn't ready to be a mother at that time and she knew it, so just like that Mother's day never existed again.

But now she was back in Henry's life, now she saw her son on a near daily basis and even if she didn't see him could easily ring him on their walkie talkies. Whether she expected to or not, whether she wanted to or not, she was slowly becoming a mother to him. She knew she had to push that thought out of her head though because she really wasn't Henry's mother, Regina was and Henry's mothers day was not for her but for Regina.

"Good morning." A warm and sleepy voice pulled her out of her thoughts and Emma looked up to see her roommate scuffling towards her. A warm smile tugged at her lips at the sight of the school teacher, her cropped black hair sticking up in pieces, and dressed in pristine, snow white pajamas.

" 'Morning." Emma sent back, raising her cup of coffee to her lips to hide her amused smirk.

Mary Margaret let out a yawn behind her hand as she made her way over to the the coffee maker to get herself a cup of coffee. Emma turned in her seat at the island, watching her.

"What are you doing up so early?"

"Hm?" Mary Margaret glanced up from where was staring mindlessly at the coffee maker and catching Emma's amused stare, smiled sheepishly. "Oh...I don't know. I just woke up and decided I might as well get up." She shrugged.

"You look exhausted." Emma commented.

Mary Margaret yawned again and then shared a small smile with Emma, grabbing her mug and bringing it over to sit beside her. She took a nice sip, closing her eyes for a moment, letting the warmth fill her body. Then she set the mug back down and a thoughtful and almost bewildered look crossed her face. "I had the strangest dream last night."

Emma raised an eyebrow curiously, wondering what sort of dream Mary Margaret had to make her look so tired. "What was it about?"

"That's the thing..." She muttered quietly, staring down at her coffee which she was swirling around her mug. "I don't really know..." She finally looked up to Emma and Emma startled at the distant look in her eyes, almost like she was somewhere else entirely. Emma probably figured she was remembering her dream but it was like there was something else there too. "I remember I was myself but at the same time, it was like I wasn't myself at all and David there and so was Regina."

Emma's brow completely shot up to her forehead, now fully intrigued.

"It was like they weren't themselves either though...at least not David." Mary frowned, glancing back down at the coffee, running her finger up and down the handle. Emma knew that despite everything that had happened her roommate still had feelings for David Nolan and it killed Emma to see her this way. Emma learned to forget a man who had burned her but Mary Margaret was not like her and David, she guessed due to the population of this small town, was the only one Mary Margaret had felt for in a long time. Emma was about to reach out to console her friend when Mary Margaret looked up, once again, peering off distantly. "And...there was a baby."

"A baby?"

Mary Margaret nodded. "A baby. She was crying and so was I and David took her..."

Emma stiffened, tightening her grip on her mug. She asked tightly, "Took her where?"

"I don't know." Mary Margaret whispered, shaking her head, her brow furrowing in concentration. "I can't remember."

Emma bit down on her lip softly, turning her gaze down to her own mug, staring much too deeply at the brown liquid. She could hardly believe she was entertaining the idea but it sounded too much like Henry's story. How Snow White and Prince Charming had to give up their baby, how Prince Charming took the baby to the wardrobe and how the Evil Queen was behind it all.

According to Henry, Mary Margaret was Snow White, David was Prince Charming, Regina was the Evil Queen and she was the baby. It was impossible, she knew it had to be impossible.

Her eyes briefly flickered over to Mary Margaret who still seemed completely lost to the memories of her dreams and her face softened. She thought back to that one time she confronted Mary Margaret about Henry's theories and how they both laughed it off and then joked about how Emma had her chin. Though the truth of the matter was, the more she looked at Mary Margaret, the more she could see certain facial similarities. And the more she thought about it, the more it scared her.

She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the those thoughts. It would be a dream come true to have a mother like Mary Margaret, someone kind and sweet and loving, but it was all too fairy tale and this was reality. Her mother was not pure and lovely Snow White or Mary Margaret, her mother abandoned her and that was that.

Emma cleared her throat, catching Mary Margaret's attention and finally the other woman seemed to snap out of her trance. "It seems to me like all that cocoa and cinnamon is going to your head."

Mary Margaret let out a small peel of laughter and a smile crossed her lips. For a moment, Emma's chest tightened, recognizing the smile as her own but it was yet another thought that was quickly pushed to the back of her mind. "Yeah, maybe."

Emma cast her a small, warm smile and then caught sight of the clock on the wall. With a groan and a roll of her eyes, she pushed herself off the chair, grabbing her mug with her.

At Mary Margaret's sudden look of confusion she quickly glanced down at her uniform. "Time to protect the good citizens of Storybrooke."

A look of realization spread across Mary Margaret's face and she smiled with a nod and Emma swore she almost saw a look of pride in her eyes. "Well have fun." She raised her mug toward her.

"Yeah, sure." She muttered dryly, taking one last sip of her coffee and then dumping it into the sink. "Nothing ever happens on a sunday."

"Well then, let's hope for some sort of crime to keep you occupied."

Emma froze on her way towards the door and slowly turned around, gaping at the words that came out of her friend's mouth. Mary Margaret stared back at her for a moment, taking in Emma's reaction and then her eyes widened as her own words processed in her mind. She buried her face in her hands with a groan and then let her hands fall, glancing back at Emma exasperated. "I'm tired, leave me alone."

Emma laughed with a shake of her head. "I think you should go back to bed."

"I'm fine." Mary Margaret waved her hand dismissively. "Besides, I've got coffee to wake me up." She held up the mug in her hands.

"Alright." Emma answered a bit skeptically. "Just don't make yourself be the one I have to come after."

Mary Margaret shot her a look and Emma smirked, stifling a laugh. "I'll be home sometime in the afternoon."

Mary Margaret nodded in acknowledgement and took another sip of her coffee. Emma smiled and then turned towards the door.

"Oh, Emma!" Mary Margaret called, stopping her. "Happy Mother's day!" She smiled brightly at her.

Emma cast a look over her shoulder and Mary Margaret raised her brow pointedly. "Don't give me that look, you are a mother."

"Not legally." Emma insisted.

"But in all the ways that really matter."

Her words and her her warm, heartfelt, knowing smile caused Emma to falter and her throat to tighten. Though like she said she was not legally Henry's mother, biologically she was and in her heart she was and Mary Margaret thought she could be. Emma had a hard time believing in herself most of the time and despite growing to love Henry over the course of the last six months she still felt some doubt about being able to be a mother for him and having someone else believe in her, someone like Mary Margaret, it was the best feeling in the world. Once again, she found the thought of Mary Margaret being her mother bubbling inside her, now stronger than ever. No one had ever shown so much belief in her before, certainly not any of her foster mothers and though Mary Margaret was more like a sister to her, in age wise at least, her words were that of a caring and loving mother.

_Impossible._ Emma told herself again. It was all impossible.

She let a small, watery smile cross her lips, trying not to show how much that little phrase meant to her. She gave a small nod and let out a quiet breath as she turned towards the door.

She blinked away the moisture that stung at her eyes, cursing herself for allowing herself to weaken and then pulled the door open.

She halted and even reeled back a little at the sight of somebody else on the other side of the door. And not just anybody. Henry.

The ten year old stood in her doorway with a grin and a folded sheet of paper tightly held in his hands.

"Henry?" Emma glanced over his shoulder looking for any sign of Regina. "What are you doing here?"

"My mom had an early meeting to go to and said she'd be back in a couple hours." Henry said simply.

"Henry..." She sighed. As much as she did love to see her son, she hated that he always had to sneak out of his house in order to do it.

"I'm going back." Henry insisted, a little dejectedly. "But I just wanted to give you this." He unfolded the paper and handed it to her.

Emma took it from his hands and her heart swelled as she realized what it was. It was a homemade card with 'Happy Mother's Day, love Henry' written in sloppy ten year old handwriting decorated with hearts and even two stick figures, a small one with brown hair and a larger one with yellow, both with bright red smiles on their little round heads.

Despite herself, she felt her eyes stinging with tears as she went over every detail of it over and over again.

"Do you like it?" Henry's small voice suddenly reached her ears and she realized she hadn't moved for several long seconds. She glanced up from the card, not even bothering to hide the moisture in her eyes, not for him.

"Oh Henry..." She whispered and she noticed the look of simultaneous worry and hope in his puppy brown eyes. She smiled at him, one of her rare, true smiles. "I love it."

Henry's eyes brightened and a grin split across his face and not a second later he was throwing himself at her, his arms wrapping tightly around her waist. He buried his face into her stomach, clutching onto her tightly. She bit down on her lip to keep it from wibbling and almost immediately her arms surrounded him and she pulled him closer against her, one hand sliding into his thick brown hair.

Emma felt a surge of warmth run through her body, a feeling she'd never experienced before, a feeling, she now knew had to be love. Keeping her hands on him she slowly sunk down to a crouch, so she was eye level with him. Their eyes met for a second and Henry, noticing the tears and the warmth in her eyes, then threw his arms around her neck in a tight hug, burying his head against her chest.

The words that escaped his lips next were muffled but powerful and shook Emma right down to her core. "I love you."

At first she didn't know how to respond so she sat there frozen but it wasn't too long before instinct took over. Her arms completely surrounded him, hugging his warm, little body close to hers and burying a soft kiss into his hair. "I love you too, Henry."

She didn't think it was possible for the boy to hold her tighter but at her confession she found him tightening his hold on her. She closed her eyes tightly, pressing another soft kiss to his head and then resting her cheek softly there, relishing in the feeling of overwhelming love.

She'd heard countless times about true love and she honestly never thought it existed but now she knew...the stories were wrong. It wasn't love between a man and a woman that was true love, it was the love a mother had for their child and the love a child had for their mother.

Her eyes fluttered open and she caught Mary Margaret still sitting at the island, her hand over her heart and a warm smile on her lips. She was reminded of the other woman's words from just a moment ago and thought about Henry was here, with her. How he no doubt spent an incredible amount of time working on the card, how he snuck out of the house just to give it to her, how he loved her and wanted her to know he thought of her as his mother.

A single tear rolled down her cheek as she drew Henry in further. Holding her son in her arms she knew she would never forget another Mother's Day.


End file.
